


Haunted Recollections

by Proliferate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But you can imagine whoever you want as Severus' beau, F/M, Imagine your OTP, My OTP is SevMin so that's why it's SevMin, Not Epilogue Compliant, Not Happy, Prose Poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25353382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proliferate/pseuds/Proliferate
Summary: Like how it is inevitable that I will die. But you already have. Does that mean I have, too? Or maybe that is just wishful thinking. AU. One-shot.
Relationships: Minerva McGonagall/Severus Snape
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Haunted Recollections

I’m not deaf. I heard all those remarks about how my cloak made me look like a giant bat, how people were always wondering what spell I used to make it so intimidating. Truth is I never used a spell.

Why am I even thinking that? Voldemort just won; he killed the Potter boy. And all I can think about is how his bratty friends thought my cloak was threatening. They say that when you meet your end, your life flashes before your eyes. This may just be Fate’s way to ensure I know that the world’s ending is fast approaching.

My cloak isn’t billowing around me right now. It’s not even moving. But then again, neither am I and neither is the world. The wind doesn’t even have enough energy to drag some of the rancid smells away from my nostrils.

Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’m in the middle of a battle field. My colleagues have all moved on, probably to get wasted on the fruits of their victory; probably breaking open the Black liquor supply right now, in fact. Just to spite us over the fact that they know the Secret.

We lost, by the way. I’m the only one left, and only because I became a bloody spy all those long years ago. No matter what happened, I would have survived. Both sides would have believed in my loyalty and fealty. I wonder, even now, if that may have been a blessing or a curse.

I’m in denial. I know it, yet I do not wish to put an end to my happy ignorance. You aren’t dead. How stupid could I be? There is no way in hell that you, _you_ , could possibly be dead. Yet, I know, deep down in the dark crevice of my heart, that if I turn around I will find a dead body - y _our_ dead body.

Which makes me want to turn around all the more, but if I do, what will happen? Will I fall into depression like all of those princes and heroes who lose their one true love? Or, maybe, will I go insane; die trying to explain how that body just could not be _your_ body?

Of course, it is your body. And you are dead. But I will continue on in this unmovable sense of peace. Just for a moment. Just one moment in time I shall stand here, denying the passage of your spirit into the next plane of existence.

When someone dies, there is always the mother telling a little white lie of how their father or grandparent went on a vacation and they’ll be gone for a long time; to protect their innocence. I feel like the mother. And the child. But am I protecting my innocence?

How could I be innocent? Oh, all the things I have seen. The killing, destruction, torture, pain, anguish, and, _oh_ , the screams! How they fill my ears and my brain. I can hear them even now, did you know?

But maybe, maybe I am still innocent of one thing. I have never felt true and unadulterated loss. But I know that is what I will find when I turn around. And so I tell myself that you are not gone. That soon you will walk into my line of view, and smile. Smile so beautifully that your thin lips will suddenly appear full and your green eyes will shine. Maybe the wind will pick up and toss your long ebony hair.

The moment is almost over. Will I have to face your cold corpse? I know I will, I must, eventually. It is inevitable. It is inevitable that I will eventually turn my back on this battlefield, and I will wipe away my tears, and I will love again. Eventually, I will live my life; eventually, I will love my life. But first I must see your face, and turn away. And then I will die.

But you already have. Does that mean I have, too? Or maybe that is just wishful thinking.

My time is up. The spell is broken. My body is spinning, even as my mind shrieks for it to stop. And my eyes, unwilling, fall into your lifeless ones.

You look so beautiful. As you always have. You always considered yourself the ugly duckling. Not through my eyes. You are the rose in the field of thorns. You are the star in the expanse of darkness.

I know I’m screaming. I’m not deaf.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to fanfiction.net on November 8, 2006. I am the original author. All comments appreciated.


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